


She Was All I Had

by ampersand_235



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Domestic Violence, F/M, Roughness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 01:05:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5270780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ampersand_235/pseuds/ampersand_235
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things aren't simple and sweet in SanSan land these days. Sometimes "it's over" really means "it's over."</p><p>Although with these two, we'll have to wait and see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Was All I Had

**Author's Note:**

> Tw: Minor physical domestic violence is depicted in this chapter. No character was in danger at any point, which I can assure you because this story is from my own head, but I recognize that real life can be different. I do not condone or encourage any kind of nonconsensual violence in nonfictional relationships.

She'd barely said a word since he'd come home from work. It had been like this all week. Well, sort of. Just after their argument last Thursday Sansa started giving him the Ice Queen treatment, and while she'd started all confident and haughty, telling him he should sleep on the couch, pointedly leaving when he entered the room, making enough dinner for two but putting her leftovers straight in the fridge, she seemed recently like maybe she was finally giving in.

Except, it wasn't happening like it usually did. Sansa rarely stayed mad for longer than a couple of days. She had a soft spot for him, only the gods know why, and more often than not, after she'd cooled off, she would sit down at the table across from him, reach for his hand, and open the "discussion" back up so they could work it out together. But this time... something was wrong.

She hadn't touched him since last week, or even smiled at him. She started cooking for him again, but never spoke. Stopped leaving rooms when he approached, but hadn't yet invited him back into theirs at night. The haughtiness was gone. The tension seemed gone. She was still cold, but she wasn't angry anymore. Just... distant. Sad.

Sandor watched her as he ate his food. She'd already left the table and curled up on the sofa, looking at the television with vacant eyes. He was pretty sure he couldn't take another minute of this.

"Sansa," she looked up. Why had her name already started to feel foreign on his lips? "What do you want from me?"

Just when he thought she was going to respond, she pressed her lips together and looked away. He could feel the air between them getting thicker as his patience left him. His grip on the countertop tightened as he lowered his weight to lean into the structure, stretching his calves to calm himself down, and bore his stare straight into her.

"I'm serious, Sansa. We're done with this fucking game. I'M done with this fucking game. And I don't care to know your thoughts on it 'cause you're acting like a bloody fucking child, and you better fucking cut it out." Silence. Sandor shoved himself up from the counter and brought his fists down to slam against it. Sansa's eyes flashed to his, startled. _Yeah, that got your bloody attention, did it?_

"WHAT, SANSA, HUH? ... Speak or I swear to the gods-"

"I already told you what I wanted," she finally mumbled, her eyes sliding away again, this time back toward the television.

"What did you say?"

"I _said,_ " she began with attitude, not looking away from the tv, "'I already told you what I wanted.'" 

"Sansa, come on. I'm not going to quit my-"

"And don't you DARE call me a child when you're banging around the kitchen like a TODDLER THROWING A TEMPER TANTRUM!" She raised her voice with impatience.

"What the fuck did you just say?" He barely grated out the words, seething. She'd been the one with the attitude all week. She was NOT going to try to take the high road on this one.

"What, are you deaf today?" she asked, her tone sarcastic and flippant. Sandor felt himself snap. A chair went flying when he slammed his booted foot into it as he rounded the counter and launched himself toward her. Sansa's eyes widened and she started to stand up, but before she could, he was there, pushing her back down into the couch.

"Don't you dare touch me! YOU BRUTE!" In the struggle to fight him off, Sansa managed to slap him. Hard. The sound echoed off the walls.

They both froze.

When they both had finally processed what had happened, Sandor responded first. He grabbed both her wrists in one hand, pressing her own hands against her throat, and fisted her hair in the other, pulling to force her to look into his eyes.

"You think you're funny? Ask me again!" It was only a whisper, but it was harsh and mean.

"What?" 

"Ask. Me. If. I'm. Deaf. Again." Sansa glared at him. If looks could kill, they both would have dropped dead.

"Are. You. Deaf. Sandor?" Her voice was steady, although strained from the pressure against her throat, and he was caught. Sandor tightened his fist in her hair before releasing it suddenly, searching her eyes for something that wasn't there. He dropped her hands, and pushed himself up from the couch. He suddenly couldn't get away from her quick enough, couldn't look in her direction.

"You won't hurt me," she said quietly. It wasn't a question. It was quiet, and a bit of an afterthought at this point, but it wasn't a question... was it? Sandor started to panic, his heart in his throat. He wanted to cut off his own hands, cut his guts from his body for touching her. _I... I'm a coward. Only a coward would touch a woman like that. Only a MONSTER would touch HIS OWN woman like that... oh gods... I'll... I'll never touch her again. I'll never even raise my voice to her._ He buried his face in his large palms. _She'll never let you come near her again, you stupid idiot cunt. It's over. Gods, it's fucking over._

He sat in the chair on the other side of the room, hanging his head in his hands, lost in his own loss.

"Sandor?"

She hadn't moved from the sofa.

"No, little bird... I won't hurt you."


End file.
